


Closer

by straightforwardly



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, Enemies as lovers, F/F, One Character Unaware of the Other's True Gender, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: Delia hid her amusement behind her fan as Alan went stiff at the sight of her, first surprise and then distaste radiating from him.Alanna and Delia have an encounter.





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



Delia stepped out from the shadows of the near-empty hallway and into the torchlight, blocking Alan’s way. “Leaving so soon? One would think you didn’t enjoy the festivities.”

She hid her amusement behind her fan as Alan went stiff at the sight of her, first surprise and then distaste radiating from him. He truly was ill-suited for court games, she thought: his face hid nothing of what he felt. In anyone else, that would have been a mortal flaw, but with Alan—well, Alan tended to be an exception for her, in more ways than one. Why else would she be drawn to him in a way she was so rarely drawn to men?

Besides, for all his openness, there was something strange about him, something which suggested that there was more to him than it appeared. She was sure of it, though she still couldn’t quite put her finger on what it could be. 

Jaw clenched, he bit out, “Speak for yourself. What happened to that headache of yours? It seems to have gone away quickly.”

He hadn’t meant to please her by that observation, she knew, but he had. Perhaps he tried—poorly—to feign indifference to her when in the public eye, but he’d noticed her departing early from the party and the reason she’d given as to why. Never mind that her departures never went unmarked; _he_ had marked it.

“It was a polite fiction, nothing more. You can’t tell me you’re not familiar with the idea.” As Delia spoke, she drew closer to him, ‘til she was scarcely more than a breath away. “It’s quite the useful ruse. You can leave dull parties without offending, or avoid a meeting with someone you’d rather not see, or…” Deliberately, she paused, shifting her fan so that the torchlight illuminated the glimpsed curve of her lips. “...escape to a rendezvous with your lover.”

Alan went red. “We’re not— _lovers_.”

“Oh? That’s not how I recall it,” Delia murmured. “I’m curious—what _do_ you call it, then, when you find your head under my skirts on a regular basis?”

Alan flushed even harder at that and said hotly, “I didn’t mean—” 

Delia went on, as though he’d never spoken. “Unless it’s the terminology you object to, not the act? And here I thought you were _desperately_ in love with me.”

 _There_. Fire flashed in Alan’s eyes, and she knew she had him. Delia hooked him by the collar, tugging, and in the next moment she was up against the wall, her fan slipping from her fingers to the floor as his mouth crashed against hers. The angle was a little awkward—she was more used to having to lean up, not down—but that hardly mattered, not with how he bit at her lips, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. The sound of their panting breaths filled the hallway as she dragged her nails over the back of his neck, down the clothed line of his spine and he scraped his teeth over her throat in response, biting at the upper swell of her breasts, the pleasure-pain rocketing through her and leaving her throbbing and wet.

Nor did Alan gentle when he went to his knees and pushed her skirts aside. His mouth ran hot over the inside of her thighs, and Delia knew she would have bruises for days; and she shuddered with a white-hot flare of pleasure at the thought of the sparks of pain those bruises would bring every time her legs rubbed together, with each step she took for the next few days.

Then, with an eager groan, his mouth was at her cunt. She was soaking, and she felt herself grow wetter still as he clutched at her thighs, his nails digging into her skin as he licked into her, alternating between swirling his tongue over her clit and sucking hard. He tasted her like he wanted to devour her, and Delia threw her head back as he brought her ever-closer to the edge, pants and moans falling from her mouth in harmony with the slick sound of his mouth against her wetness. It was almost too much, and Alan never relented, licking and sucking and tormenting her until Delia finally came with a low, shuddering cry. 

It took her a little while to catch her breath again, and by the time she had, Alan had straightened up again, leaving her skirts once more in the proper order around her legs. His face, she noted with a low thrill, was shining with her wetness, his mouth swollen and red.

His own pleasure remained unsated—as always. By now, Delia knew better than to try to return his touches: all it would manage was to make him avoid her for a time, and _that_ was not what she wanted. 

They parted not long after. But as Delia turned to watch him depart, she wondered at it, her eyes going cat-sharp. There was _something_ she was missing about him, she was sure about it. And one day, she aimed to find out just what that was.


End file.
